


Where the Heart Is

by speedgriffon



Series: It's Just a Flesh Wound | Rosie Sheridan Fics [17]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Short Prompt Collection, Tags to be added, prompt collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24591727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/pseuds/speedgriffon
Summary: A collection for short-stories and prompt fills (under 1k words) for my Lone Wanderer, Rosie Sheridan and Butch DeLoria. Themes will be in the chapter title and notes.Stories take place at various time along the Fallout 3 timeline and explore the pairing's rivalry, friendship, and romantic relationship.
Relationships: Butch DeLoria/Female Lone Wanderer
Series: It's Just a Flesh Wound | Rosie Sheridan Fics [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710277
Comments: 44
Kudos: 41





	1. Where the Heart Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is obviously set during their relationship, all the fluffy feels and comfort with each other :)

“Do you ever get homesick?”

Snuggled against Butch’s side, Rosie felt the rumble of his voice in her ear. She knew he wasn’t asleep—the lack of snoring was a dead giveaway—and he’d been idly playing with her hand that rested on his chest. But the question surprised her, made her wonder what was going through his head to keep him awake and thinking of… _home_.

She nestled herself closer. “You mean the vault?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“No,” Rosie responded, on impulse. She frowned into the fabric of his shirt. “I mean—not really. I—” she hesitated, swallowing back the emotions. “I miss my dad…but the vault?”

Butch’s arm squeezed around her. “Didn’t mean to upset ya’.”

“Do you?” she asked, quietly.

“Nah,” he sighed, shifting slightly. “Just wonder if they’re gettin’ by without us.”

It was a half-joke, given his tone, and Rosie was half-tempted to point out that vault they once called home would’ve collapsed into chaos if it hadn’t been for her intervention. She held her tongue, pushing away the memories of Vault 101—good and bad—it was best to leave the past behind. Megaton was her home now, and if she didn’t have the metal walls to surround her, well…what was the phrase her father had taught her when she was young? _Home is where the heart is_.

“Ya’ think if your old man was alive he’d flip his lid if he found out we were shakin’ up?” Butch’s question broke the silence and made her wonder if he was reading her mind.

“Is that what you call it?” Rosie smiled against his shoulder before tilting her chin up to look at him. To her surprise, he looked uncertain, rather than holding a teasing smirk like she expected. “Butch?”

He rubbed at her back affectionately. “He just…never liked me, ya’ know? No way he would approve of the two of us.”

“I wouldn’t need his permission,” she reassured.

Yes, there was _some_ truth to what Butch was saying—her dad didn’t have a nice thing to say about _Butch DeLoria_ , but he never got to see this side of him, never got to see how hard Butch worked to keep her happy. Rosie figured the only thing that mattered was her happiness, no matter what her dad _would’ve_ thought.

“A blessin’ would be nice,” Butch mumbled, his hand tightening around hers, running along her ring finger. There was a subtle implication behind his words and gesture that made her heart race, and she carefully studied his profile and expression for a clear sign of his intentions. When did he become so hard to read?

“Guess if he was still alive, lotta’ things would be different,” he said, instead of any kind of impromptu proposal—just the word floating in her mind made her feel dizzy. They were so young—she wasn’t even _twenty_ —what was he doing, thinking about…

Rosie let out the breath she’d been holding, relaxing against him when he turned his head to look at her with a raised, curious eyebrow. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. She thought about what he had said, focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing against her ear.

“Best not to speculate,” she finally replied. “Better to focus on the future.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tilting his chin down to press a kiss to her forehead. “You’re right.”

Rosie smiled, teasing him. “Aren’t I always?”


	2. Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set pre-relationship; Butch is gooey-eyed  
> (what are feelings!?!?)

Butch wasn’t surprised when he found Rosie sitting by herself, up on the highest part of the Megaton rafters. He expected her to be reading or journaling like she always was when she hid herself away from his company, but instead she was staring ahead over the Wasteland view with a pensive expression.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Stitches?” he followed her gaze, wondering if she could even see as far as he could, what with her _four eyes._ Even he had to squint to see the Springvale elementary school.

Rosie didn’t turn his way as she answered in that quiet voice of hers. “The sunset.”

Figured—the upper rafters of the city were the perfect place to watch the sunrise and sunset—a worldly phenomena that she was obsessed with. Butch had been traveling with Rosie for a while now, and she always went out of her way to watch the sky at dawn and dusk. If he didn’t mind hanging around with her so much, he’d find it annoying.

“You can…” she glanced up at him nervously, eyes quickly dancing back towards the horizon when she noticed he was watching her. “You can stay, if you want.”

Butch smirked at her nervousness—one minute she was begging for him to leave her alone, the next, she was embarrassed over asking him to stay—she just couldn’t make up her mind. Then again, neither could he.

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “Not like I got anywhere else to be.”

He sat down on the walkway beside her, bravely dangling his legs over the edge—the thin metal railway would prevent him from falling to his death—as long as she didn’t get any sudden ideas about pushing him. Despite the way Rosie frowned at him, he pulled loose a cigarette from his pocket and wedged it between his lips while he searched through his jacket for his lighter.

“What was it like?” Rosie’s question was random, and quite frankly, unexpected.

Butch turned to her with a cocked eyebrow. “Huh?”

She was watching him intently, smoke dangling from his lips as he ignited the end with the spark from his trusty, silver zippo. He stared back, wondering what she meant. Rosie shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the extended eye-contact, and nibbled on her bottom lip.

“I mean—” her eyes darting back towards the orange and purple hues cascading over the wastes. “When you first left the vault, when you saw the sun for the first time—what was it like?”

Butch blinked a few times, surprised by her curiosity, unsure of what to say. At first, he wasn’t sure if remembered leaving vault 101, even if it had only been a few months ago—like he’d wiped that day from his memory. Good riddance—Wasteland Butch was who he was now. But there was something kind of mesmerizing about the expectant way Rosie was staring at him with those big, baby blue eyes behind those black-rimmed glasses. 

He exhaled the drag of his cigarette, swallowed down the sudden and strange sense of anxiety he felt. “I-uh—” he flashed a lopsided grin. “Kept thinkin’ I was gonna fall up into the sky, or sumthin’.”

Rosie smiled. _Actually_ smiled. “That’s not how gravity works.”

“I know that,” Butch mumbled in response, a little flustered.

Wasn’t she usually the shy, nervous one? When had the tables turned? They sat in silence while the sun continued to set against the horizon, Butch flicking his finished smoke over the ledge and hooking his arms on the railing. Stars soon filled up the darkened night sky, sparkling beside the half-moon hanging above. He couldn’t forget that, either—seeing the blackness of the night sky for the first time.

“There’s just so much to it, ya’ know?” he mused with a shrug, more to himself. “Kinda scary.”

“Scary, but beautiful,” Rosie responded in a wistful, dreamy way.

Butch looked over at her to find her head tilted back so she could see more of the darkness above. He froze, captivated by the way she looked. The stars were illuminated in the reflection of her glasses, shining in the brightness of her eyes. And she was smiling again, just this little tiny grin that was all too rare. What would it take to keep her laughing and smiling and happy?

His hand was halfway to reaching out towards her face when he realized what he was doing and he snapped it back to his side, curling his fingers into a fist, nails biting into his skin. What was he doing? What was he thinking? At least Rosie didn’t notice, all her attention on the millions of stars in the sky.

“Yeah,” he breathed out in agreeance. “Beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> say hello over on tumblr @ potatocrab
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated :)


	3. Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Rosie’s birthday, and she deserves to sleep in, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (canonical) Birthday to all Lone Wanderers!

Morning.

Rosie slowly peeked open her eyes, blinking the sleep from her vision. Just like any other day, she had naturally awakened without the assistance of an alarm, and judging by the dim lighting of her room, before sunset. If it was _any other day_ , she would’ve been up already, tucked away in some quiet space as she read or journaled. Early mornings were the perfect time for her to be alone with her thoughts, long before anyone else dared to be awake, and she enjoyed the privacy. However, this day different.

Today was her birthday.

Her Pip-Boy was on the nearby nightstand, but she didn’t need her glasses to check the time or date to confirm. Today was her twentieth birthday. It felt like a lifetime ago since she turned nineteen—the previous year she had _celebrated_ in the vault—if you could call celebrating sharing a few cupcakes with Amata, Jonas, and her father. A year later and she was living in Megaton—the Enclave were destroyed, the Brotherhood had brought clean water to the Capital Wasteland, and Rosie had solidified herself as some kind of local hero. If she had it her way, she’d live in total anonymity. She didn’t need the fortune or fame that being the _Lone Wanderer_ brought. All she needed was—

A loud, nasally snore echoed near her ear.

Perhaps there was something else keeping her from getting out of bed, a sturdy arm wrapped snug around her waist. Rosie struggled not to react to Butch’s snoring, despite the fact it’s absurd levels of loudness made her amused. She shifted slightly, struggling to wiggle her way onto her back so she could see him, creating some distance between them in the process.

Butch stirred at her movements, and reflexively tugged her back. “Where’d ya’ think you’re goin’?”

Rosie yelped, giggling into the crux of his shoulder. “Nowhere.”

She glanced up at his lazy expression and wild mess of black hair, smiling at the way it curled as he slept. She considered herself lucky that only she got to see it in such a natural state, before all the styling and preening in the mirror. She didn’t like to think about the fact there was ever a time she thought he _wasn’t_ handsome. A delightful warmth spread across her body as she contemplated her fortune further and knew her cheeks were flush with color. Rosie was still bashful—even after all this time—that she got to wake up with somebody by her side. She’d spent so much of her life _alone_ that she didn’t think friendship or romantic love was possible and yet—her heart had never felt so _full_.

Most birthdays, she’d woken up with an overwhelming sense of dread, anguishing over her loneliness and purpose as she grew up in Vault 101. It was a sad existence for a child, one that eventually led to her marking the occasion privately with just a few trusted people in the clinic. Rosie would’ve been content if her father didn’t acknowledge her birthday at all but being a single father to an only child made that argument difficult to win.

Now, Rosie didn’t feel so lonely.

Butch flashed her a goofy, sideways grin. “Birthday girl.”

“That’s me.”

“How’s it feel to be twenty?” he asked, squeezing her close for a moment. “Ain’t a teen no more. You’re an adult now.”

“I don’t know about that,” she softly laughed. Sometimes, she felt well beyond her years. Other times, she still felt like a ten-year-old, lost in the restricted area of the vault with a BB gun.

Butch noticed her pensive state and trailed one warm hand up and down her back in comforting sweeps. “What do ya’ want to do today?”

She chewed on her bottom lip and played coy. “You—you didn’t plan anything?”

“Course I did!” he rebuffed, cuddling her closer. “I’d be a shit boyfriend if I didn’t look after my best gal on her big day!”

He pressed a firm kiss to her temple before pulling away so they could see each other’s faces again. “But what do _you_ want?”

“I—I think I want to sleep in,” she finally responded, snuggling her head into the pillow and brushing her nose just barely against his.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked. “See, ya’ taking to getting old already.”

She laughed. “ _Twenty_ , not geriatric.”

Butch huffed. “Whatever.”

“And then,” she added with a smile. “I’d like to know what you had planned.”

“It involves kissing,” he waggled his eyebrows, that hand of his trailing down her side. “ _Twenty_ kisses.”

Rosie smiled, resting her hand against the side of his face. “What else?”

“Breakfast in bed,” Butch answered with a nod. “More kissing. With less clothes, of course. Did I mention I sent Wadsworth and Dogmeat to Moira’s—”

He seemed to take note of the excitement shining in her eyes and grinned. “We can start now, if ya’ want.”

“Okay,” she answered, laughing as he gathered her in his arms.

He kissed her—and didn’t stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> say hello over on tumblr @ potatocrab
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated :)


	4. Good to Be Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unprompted. Set after "Truth or Dare".

Megaton—it was good to be home. After traveling across the Capital Wasteland and through the Metro systems Rosie was _exhausted_. Judging by the way Butch was dragging his feet along the metal scaffolding, he was just as drained from the trip, ready to fall face-first into the nearest bed.

 _Which bed_ —she suddenly thought, thinking about what had transpired between them back in Rivet City. He’d kissed her, she’d kissed back—they’d kissed some more while camping out in the underground subway tunnels—but she was uncertain of what that really meant for their _relationship_. Now she was tired _and_ confused.

“Welcome home, madame!” Wadsworth greeted as they crossed through the doorway, Dogmeat jumping down from his spot on the couch to meet Rosie as she stepped further into the room. “You as well, sir.”

Butch cringed, still uncomfortable with the handy unit’s formality. If he had it his way, he’d reprogram it to speak nothing but profanity and lame jokes. Dogmeat sniffed at her feet, circling around her legs before trotting over to her companion to do the same with a happy bark.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, patting the dog on the head. “Good to see you too, boy.”

Rosie smiled at the interaction, but nervously glanced away the moment Butch looked in her direction. She crossed over to the staircase, regarding the floating robot with a polite smile. “Goodnight Wadsworth.”

“Goodnight madame,” there was a pause as Rosie ascended the stairs, but it was obvious Butch were following. “Goodnight sir.”

Dogmeat rushed ahead of her as soon as she reached the second story landing, pushing open her bedroom door to let himself in. He poked his head back out to excitedly bark, tail wagging.

“Shh,” she hushed, approaching the doorway. Rosie knew Butch was just a few footsteps behind her, though, his room _was_ right beside hers and she had no reason to be alarmed by his close proximity. “It’s bedtime, not playtime.”

While Dogmeat’s ears flattened and he whined, she also made out Butch’s attempt to stifle a snicker, glancing over her shoulder to see him feigning innocence, lips pursed and eyes to the ceiling. _Gutter-mind_ , that boy. Now she was even more confused, but most definitely certain that she didn’t want him following her into bed. Maybe? _No_.

“I—um,” she hesitated, deciding that telling him she was going to change was a bad idea, not wanting to give him that visual.

Butch leaned against the doorway to his own room, watching her intently, like he had when he had been stretched out across her bed back in Rivet City, right before he kissed her. Rosie shut her eyes tight, not wanting to think about him like that right now, or else she’d be tempted. Right now, she needed to create distance.

“Goodnight Butch,” she said, turning away.

“Hey, wait—”

Rosie froze, remembering _exactly_ what happened the last time he said that, how he’d pulled her back to him, _surprised her_ with her first kiss. Not that she hadn’t dared him to do it, and not that she hadn’t enjoyed it, but she didn’t really feel like being tugged around again. She turned back to face him just as his hand found hers, his touch surprisingly gentle. He didn’t say anything else, but didn’t move either, just stared at her, bright blue eyes darting over her face before settling on her mouth. Rosie was the one to inch closer, giving silent permission for him to kiss her and when he did she felt as though she could melt right through the metal flooring. It was gentle, so much more chaste than those first series of desperate, fumbling kisses, and didn’t last nearly as long as she would’ve liked.

Butch squeezed her hand as he pulled away, lids heavy as he gazed into her eyes. “Goodnight, Rosie.”

She tried not to sway, steadying herself in place as he ducked away into his own bedroom with a small, sideways grin. A few moments passed before Dogmeat nudged at her ankles, softly whining as he yawned. Rosie sighed, pressing her hand to her lips—she wouldn’t be getting much sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hello over on tumblr @ potatocrab!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	5. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While writing in her journal, Rosie reflects on the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all knew it was only a matter of time before I wrote a fic inspired by Taylor Swift's [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpxX4ZE4KWE), peace

_And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences  
Sit with you in the trenches  
Give you my wild, give you a child  
Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other  
Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother  
Is it enough?_

* * *

_June 1, 2278_

_Weather: Sunny—heat wave expected_

_I have a lead on where to obtain a G.E.C.K—finally. I’m not looking forward to traversing **another** vault, but Scribe Rothchild made it clear there were no other options. Problem is—Vault 87 is in the middle of a highly irradiated, nuclear hot-zone. When Charon returned from scouting the area, even he appeared nauseated by the amount of rads present. I could swallow a whole bottle of Rad-X and encase myself in a suit of BoS power armor and still die of radiation poisoning in less than a minute. The direct approach is out, which brings me to Plan B._

_Plan B doesn’t bring me much confidence either, it involves crawling through underground tunnels too. Which we may or may not be given access to based solely on the fact that ‘Little Lamplight’ is run by **children.** Children, I might add, that don’t trust anyone over the age of 16. At least I stand a better chance than my father ever could’ve—maybe. _

_I knew it would be this difficult, but I can’t let the frustrations get to me, even if every day, with each new challenge I feel like giving up. At least I am not alone. Butch—_

Rosie lifted her attention from what she was scrawling, pausing to think about what she wanted to write. There was a lot she could say, a lot she _wanted_ to say—so much she could put on paper that she couldn’t find the voice to say aloud. Even after so many months spent together, their relationship strengthening day-by-day, she still found herself as nervous as the first time he kissed her.

She looked up from her journal, glancing over to where Butch was laying across her bed— _their_ bed—on his back with his head hanging off the edge of the mattress as he read through a comic book. His company was always welcome, even if it was unusual for him to be there without pestering her every five minutes about what she was doing, asking her about potential plans for the evening. What used to annoy her, she now found endearing. This kind of comfortable silence was something she’d only recently gotten used to, but she missed his teasing remarks.

“You’ll give yourself a headache if you stay like that,” she said, catching his attention.

Butch lifted the comic to look at her— _upside-down_ —blinking a few times before slowly adjusting so he was on his side instead. Rosie softly smiled, the fluttering in her chest hard to ignore—why was it so easy for him to make her feel that way? He was watching her with a similar content expression but remained silent.

“You’re so quiet,” she remarked—now _she’d_ done more talking in the last hour. How uncharacteristic of her.

He shrugged, flicking his gaze to her desk and open-faced journal. “Well, you’re writing,” he answered plainly. “Didn’t want to distract ya’.”

Her smile increased, as did the heat on her cheeks. Rosie turned back to the pages, but the words were a blur as all she could think about was _him_ and the possible ways he could be distracting her in that moment. Her mind didn’t get too far down the preverbal gutter, however, as she thought about the simple action of being wrapped up in his arms. Though, even that gave her heart pause. Rosie was reminded of how she’d caught him being increasingly pensive, caressing her hand, and on one pillow-talk occasion had nearly implied his intent to propose. She was still navigating those emotions, trying to figure out if it was something she wanted. Not that she didn’t want to be with Butch—but _marriage_?

“Rosie?” Butch’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked back towards him and his slightly concerned expression. “You okay?”

She wasn’t about to broach the subject with him but couldn’t lie either. “I’m worried,” she started, focusing on the words she’d written for a moment before locking eyes with him again. “We’ve been looking for the G.E.C.K for months. What if it’s another dead end?”

“Not to mention the Enclave haven’t stopped their pursuit,” she added with a frown. “I’m just worried about our chances. Our luck hasn’t been the greatest.”

Rosie flashed him a lopsided, but hopeful smile. “Are you sure you’re still wanting to come with me? Follow me to an irradiated vault?”

Butch grinned, nodding immediately before she’d even finished her question. “Ya’ know I’m here for the long haul, baby.”

“Besides,” he smirked. “Who’s gonna carry ya’ outta that vault when you trip over something and sprain your ankle?”

They laughed, Rosie unable to prevent tears from prickling the corners of her eyes at the amusement she felt, even at her expense. Butch—her knight in shining hero—what would she do without him? It had started as a joke in her mind, but it quickly solidified as a real question, permeating over and over. What _would_ she do? She couldn’t imagine her life without him, and she wondered—maybe even already knew, that he felt the same.

They settled back into the quiet that had been in the room previously as she wrote in her journal, and he regarded her with a warm expression and small, lingering smile. A warmth blossomed in her heart and she thought about her future and how clearly the vision started to take shape in her mind. The lingering doubts faded away, and she _knew_.

Rosie wrote, completing her earlier thought—and adding a new one.

_I’m lucky to have him. I ~~think I~~ —I love him. I love him. **I love him.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hello over on tumblr @ [potatocrab](https://potatocrab.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
